蜜芽传媒

January 5th 1941

We embarked on the EMPRESS OF JAPAN flagship of the CANADIAN PACIFIC LINE, the convoy assembled in the Clyde off Gourock. At the time of sailing it was the largest to have sailed from British waters, consisting of 47 ships plus Naval escort, one of which was the H.M.S. RAMILLES. Ships included 6 UNION CASTLE of which were WINCHESTER, WINDSOR, ARUNDEL, CAPETOWN CASTLES, OLYMPIC, DUCHESS OF ATHOLL, MONARCH OF BERMUDA, BRITTANIC, ORANTES and ORMONDE, the latter a troop ship in the Great War.

We eventually arrived at Freetown, Sierra Leone, without any major incident, but within an hour or so of anchoring in the roads, we were attacked by high flying bombers, fortunately without casualty. No shore leave, but 鈥渂um boats鈥� came to the side with fruits and all manner of exotic items for sale. This for many of us was our first encounter with other cultures than European.

Our next port of call was Capetown with five days ashore, but before disembarking we were given a lecture on what has now become known as apartheid, and were told that it was not the 鈥渄one thing鈥� to become friendly with the black population. An area, mainly occupied by blacks known as District 6 was out of bounds, which made it a 鈥渕ust鈥� to visit. The whites ensured that we didn鈥檛 mix with the blacks very much by organising fleets of cars to meet the troops at the docks each day, taking us sightseeing, and entertaining us for the day. We saw quite a lot of that wonderful country with its gorgeous beaches and scenery, including panoramic views from the top of Table Mountain. It is no wonder that the Europeans want to hang on to such a land of bounty.

We sailed around Africa to Mombassa, Kenya where some of the convoy left us. No shore leave, but once more had a glimpse of golden sandy shores, and palm fringed beaches. Under way again, with a much depleted convoy of about ten ships and one destroyer escort, and eventually arrived in Bombay, the Gateway to India, a dirty port. One day鈥檚 leave, completely left to our own devices, no welcoming parties here. Visited the notorious Grant Street with its women in 鈥渃ages鈥�, its poverty and squalor, then as a contrast the European flats and houses on the 鈥渂est side鈥� of Bombay, with its wonderful wide sweeping promenade.

Here we were joined by the old AQUITANIA, another trooper from the Great War, but what a lovely ship, with graceful lines. Together we made full speed, completely unescorted at about 25 knots all the way to Singapore. Standing in the roads was the largest ship I had ever seen. This was the QUEEN MARY which had just brought the whole of the 8th Australian Division, about 10,000 men from Australia to Malaya. We disembarked at the famous Naval Base, and were marched to a tented camp at a small village or kampong named Ulu Pandang.

This was in early March 1941.
The next day my Company Commander informed me that I was to be transferred to Malaya Command Signals as an L/Cpl Chief Signals Officer. I was reluctant to leave my friends, but the Company Commander said it was a chance of a lifetime and that it would be almost like a civilian job. He also informed me that the unit was to be sent right up to the North East of Malaya where life would be very rough. As it turned out he was correct, in that this was the landing place of the Japanese invasion forces, and the unit suffered heavy casualties right from the start.

Life at Command H.Q. is described in the Air Mail letters to home in Folder No. 2. As far as work was concerned, there were great difficulties in obtaining all classes of Signal Stores including wireless sets, both for field and mobile unit use, batteries and generators for same, telephone equipment, cadmium copper wire and insulators.

Life was very pleasant here after the austere conditions of Britain. There was no rationing, no black-out, and no-one seemed to care that there was a life and death struggle in Europe. The white civilian population, apart from those who ran the Services Clubs completely ignored the troops, who were regarded as a necessary evil. We were often welcomed into the homes of the Eurasian population, but even then with some degree of caution.

I became a member of the Signals entertainments committee and helped to organise outings to places of interest on Singapore Island and in the mainland state of Johore. We also had dances in one of the hotels, arranged concerts, and formed a harmonica band. Into this rather halcyon way of life there eventually loomed the threat of invasion by the Japanese from Saigon, Indo-China which they now occupied under a 鈥渄efence arrangement鈥� with that country. Special weapon training was introduced for all troops, and I was allocated that most unpredictable of arms; a Lewis Gun. The Civil Authorities issued leaflets on what to do in case of war, organised something like the 蜜芽传媒 Guard, and had practice Air Raid Warnings and 鈥淏rown outs鈥�. This letter was a modified form of the Black out.

On the night of December 8th 1941 about two in the morning we were awakened by the air raid sirens, and the noise of aircraft, but assumed it was just a practice as the town below was ablaze with lights. Soon bombs fell in the Chinese quarter below Fort Canning, fires started, and the screams of people could be heard. This token air raid which missed our billets by about 300 yards heralded the Jap invasion at Khota Bahru on the East Coast of Malaya. From the outset, due to lack of aircraft equipment, and poor training the Japanese had the advantage. They had been waging war for 12 years in China and Manchuria. They were soon able to place planes on captured mainland airfields and were able to dictate the progress on the war. The sending of the ships Prince of Wales and the Repulse, plus a few antiquated destroyers into the battle area without adequate air cover was the biggest fiasco of all. Admiral Phillips who twice refused to take his command into such an untenable position went down with his ships along with hundreds of his seamen. The lady who worked as a secretary in my office, and who was the wife of the Paymaster R.A.F.C. Malaya, was extremely distressed. She and her husband were close friends of the Admiral, and had entertained him to dinner the night before sailing. He died two days later.

When it became obvious that the Japanese were not to be halted, and that eventually Singapore Island would be invaded, all non-essential clerical staff were seconded back to their units, and along with some of my former Bakewell colleagues I found myself in a hutted camp in River Valley Road, where we had to defend a bridge and main road into Singapore. It was here that I missed death twice in twelve hours. Late in the afternoon, one day after mortars and shells had been flying over our heads to a target about half a mile away three suddenly fell with deafening explosions, later measured at 14 yards away from where I was standing. Fortunately they hit very soft ground, and the fragmenting effect of the shells was completely nullified. Because of fear of further attack, our position having been spotted by the Japanese observation balloon, the C.C. decided to move into less conspicuous huts. This was an extremely fortunate move, as early next morning the hut we had been using received a direct hit, and was destroyed. It is almost certain that the majority of the 30 men sleeping there would have been killed or badly injured. During the last few days of the fighting, in which our artillery bombarded Japanese positions ceaselessly until they ran out of ammunition, we 鈥渟tood to鈥� many times on receipt of messages that face to face encounter with the enemy was imminent. When surrender came we were actually less than one mile from their advance forces. Capitulation came on the 15th of February 1942, and although we had a 鈥榥o surrender鈥� order, it was inevitable because by this time Singapore town had received such a pounding with tremendous casualties amongst the civilians. Ships, which a week before had brought a whole division (the 18th) as re-inforcements, (a profligate waste of man power), had tried to evacuate as many European women, some men and all Air Force personnel as they could in the limited time available. The final blow to resistance was given when the invading forces captured the MacRichie reservoirs, thus cutting off all water supplies to the island. Two days later we were relieved of our arms, and marched to Changi Barracks, about fifteen miles away. Everywhere was devastation. burning oil, and petrol tanks, bodies swollen and fly-blown lying in the streets, and the smell of death everywhere.

The change from good Army food to P.O.W. rice diet soon had its effect, as we made ourselves as comfortable as we could in Changi. Initially we were left very much to our own devices, apart from some men being beaten up or slapped for not bowing or saluting a Japanese guard. Our first piece of humiliation came when we were ordered to line the route from Singapore to Changi for an inspection by General Yamashita, who had commanded to invasion forces. Soon we were formed into working parties and sent to various destinations on the islands. Works included cleaning up the city, building a war memorial and victory shrine to the Japanese forces, work on the docks, and building huts to accommodate Nippon troops. By coincidence I found myself in the River Valley Road Camp, where we had been at the time of surrender. In comparison with what was to come, life although hard was not bad, the food adequate, and we were able to purchase additional foods from the civilian population. There was also a 鈥榖lack market鈥� run by men who went 鈥榯hrough the wire鈥� at night. Whilst working on the docks one day, I observed an incident worth relating. In the harbour was a German submarine, some of the crew leaning on the side watching the 鈥渨hite coolies鈥� labouring. A Japanese guard, not satisfied with the efforts of one of the P.O.W.s started to shout at him and beat him, whereupon a rather large blond German submariner jumped off his ship and threw the Japanese guard into the dock, much to the delight of the P.O.W.s and crew. All Germans weren鈥檛 bad after all. Early in October we were told that we were going 鈥榰p country鈥� to rest camps, and places where there would be abundant food, good hospitals, which some of us by now were in need of.

A week later, one evening we were told to pack a minimum of kit, and marched down to the railway station where we were installed in cattle trucks and parcels vans, 35 to a van, and the doors were slammed shut. Here began our journey into the night, and also the nightmare Land of Thailand and the 鈥淩ailway of Death鈥� from which so many of our colleagues were not to return. Food on the journey was almost non-existent, apart from some rice and dried meat which we had got from our rations in Singapore. Cooking took place beside the ?? when the locomotive stopped for water or fuel, as also did our natural functions and burial of those who died from either dysentery or the exhaustion of the journey. The metal trucks 鈥渟almon cans鈥� we called them were unbearably hot in the daytime in spite of eventually being allowed to have a door half open. Because there was insufficient room for us all to lie down at once, sleeping upon what kit we had managed to. Sleeping was done in relays. Anyone 鈥渢aken short鈥� with enteritis or dysentery being held out by two men in the doorway whilst the train was in motion, the result being that often the excrement was blown back into the truck.

When the train stopped at the border town of Prai opposite the island of Penang, we were allowed the luxury of a bathe in the sea, and a meal of rice and fish was brought to us. This was the fourth day of five in the journey and the first real meal since we had left Kuala Lumpur. On the afternoon of the fifth day we arrived at Kampong in Thailand. The camp we were installed in was flooded after recent monsoon rain and there were many sick men there lying on their bamboo beds submerged by dirty flood water, the latrines had overflowed and faeces were floating everywhere. However, after two days we were organised into groups to go up country, and I was lucky enough, presumably because I looked reasonably well, to be detailed to the advance party, which made the 100 mile journey by barge instead of walking through jungle. When we arrived at our destination, Kin Sayok, a clearing in the jungle, we were immediately set to work building the bamboo huts, digging latrines etc, which were to accommodate us and the Japanese guards and Engineers for the next six months. When the main party arrived, much exhausted and depleted by death and sickness, work began on building a crude road or track through the jungle so that motorised vehicles could bring tools and equipment. Some food was brought up the river by barge, and initially because there were not many men to feed, the rations were reasonable, there being a good supply of local fruit, vegetables, and a little dried meat like pemmican, plus some dried fish. Work on the railway soon began, and at first our camp was detailed to building embankments, using picks, changols, (mattocks), and baskets for carrying the earth, with a continuous chain of men moving with their loads. On our return to camp after the evening meal, we often had to work till 11pm on building huts for additional men coming in, and generally trying to improve conditions. Our first Christmas was spent here, and we managed to get extra rations, and actually a 鈥淐ornish pasty鈥� made with vegetables in a rice flour case. The Nips shot a few monkeys, and when they had had their share gave us the rest to supplement our vegetable stew. Men however continued to die.

About February 1943, most of us were moved to a camp about 40 miles further up river to an already prepared camp named Hindate, and again for about six months working up and down the line we were engaged on building wooden bridges over tributaries of the main river, and a full description of this work can be seen in the sketches in the illustrations following. About this time, because of the numbers of men now working along the line, and the pressure on the Japanese to complete the railway in about a year鈥檚 time, conditions began to rapidly become much worse. Men were dying daily, some sick in camp and some actually working on the line, some due to accidents. Food became short and sub-standard and small 鈥榣uxury items鈥� such as bananas, duck eggs, palm sugar, condensed milk, and tobacco which we had hitherto been able to purchase through our 鈥榗anteen鈥� facilities, were mostly now only available to the men who were gravely ill in 鈥榟ospital鈥�.

The pressure on the Japanese engineers was so great that it was inevitable that it reflected on the treatment of the prisoners, severe beatings of both groups of men and individuals were an everyday occurrence, long hours were worked, and men suffering from malaria and intestinal complaints were sent out to work, sitting beside the line breaking stones for ballast for the track when it was laid. There were no medicines to speak of, and every day there were burials of men who had died from the many tropical illnesses, accentuated by starvation rations, and the lack of such simple foods such as quinine, condensed milk, egg, and bananas. Ointment for jungle sores and ulcers was concocted by mixing crushed M&B 693 tablets with anti-gas cream, as a 鈥榗ure鈥� for intestinal complaints, as were pills made from opium or charcoal. Worse was to come, however, and this was caused by three major events 鈥� the monsoon season, the influx of thousands of native labourers, mainly of Indian origin from Malaya, and with that the cholera bug. The monsoons brought incessant heavy rain for three months from late June to early October and we were never dry in bed or out working. At the commencement of the monsoons we were moved yet another 40 miles upriver to a camp known as REEN TIEN and it was here that cholera struck us, and also the worst event of our P.O.W. life occurred. Two Dutch-Indonesian boys, having been re-captured after trying to escape, were first of all, beaten and tortured for three days by the Kempai, Japanese military police. On the third afternoon all officers and men in camp, both British and Dutch were ordered to the graveyard, and here witnessed the men having to dig their own graves. They were then knelt down beside the grave and executed by a Japanese officer with a Samurai sword, the standard punishment for 鈥榙eserters鈥� so called.

The cholera epidemic rapidly claimed the lives of huge numbers and we had reached such a low state that we actually gambled tobacco, matches etc on who would die next. All bodies were now burned on a bonfire at the entrance to the camp, and special cholera squads were formed to patrol up and down the line, and especially visit native camps to collect their dead, as they were apt to throw them into the river from which all camps obtained their water supply. The time came however when, in spite of all these devastating events the railway was completed, and eventually those of us who survived, more dead than alive, walking skeletons, were taken by train, in the same cattle trucks we had seen Japanese troops being taken up 鈥榦ur line鈥� in to Burma. After a few weeks 鈥榬est鈥� in Non-Pladuk, a large camp near Bangkok we went back to Singapore by train, (*details of which journey I have no recollection whatever), and on 3rd June 1944 found myself in a convoy bound for Japan, via Manila and Taiwan (Japanese Formosa). The last night before docking at Shimonoseiki we were attacked by American submarines, and a large ship at the rear of the convoy plus an escorting corvette were sunk. The ship carried Japanese troops, civilians and allied P.O.W.s. The ship docked with flags at half-mast.

We were taken on a two day journey to the north-west of Honshu island, to a very remote copper mining village in the mountains, the last 15 miles over rough mountain tracks by trucks. Here we were established in a camp constructed of solid wooden huts, with for the 1st time a high perimeter fence, and here we spent the remainder of our P.O.W. existence working in the mines. The miners, most of then time ex-soldiers treated us quite reasonably, and we had a certain amount of rapport with them, especially those P.O.W.s who had been miners at home. With a better climate, reasonable conditions, although primitive by European standards, the morale of the 300 or so men began to get better especially when rumours came in that the war in Europe was coming to a satisfactory conclusion. However we lost six men, three as a result of their privations on the Railway, and the others through accidents in the mine. Food began to deteriorate as a result of Allied blockade of the sea routes to Japan, and this was also apparent in the appearance and demeanour of the Japanese, who became very inactive and apathetic.

In October 1944 we suffered a typhoon which damaged part of the camp and the following June, Japan had a very severe earthquake, the edge of which we experienced. About this time the American bombers began to pass overhead, and eventually we saw large flights of them in the day. One day the Japanese got extremely excited when some planes were seen and we heard them talking about phosphorus and magnesium bombs having been dropped. These we learned later were of course the Atom Bombs on Nagasaki and Hiroshima, and a few days later we were Assembled on the parade ground and told that the war was over.

This event came not a minute too soon, as had the war continued another six months, not many P.O.W.s would have been left to tell the tale, due to general decline in physical and mental health, as a result of near starvation, that few Red Cross parcels had come in were used in the cookhouse. Relief rations supposed to be dropped by plane never came due to the inaccessible in the mountains. The Japanese had been made fully responsible for our welfare, and miraculously contained Red Cross supplies and even brought us a live bullock, oranges etc.

On the day before we departed we had a special feast and we invited the miners and their wives and families to participate as they were badly in need of food by this time. We also gave a farewell concert, which they appreciated. In return they contributed fresh vegetables from their gardens and presented us all with two fans each. The next day they all turned out to wave us on our way. We were taken by train to Yokohama, and then embarked on American transports to be sent to Manila. Here we were medically examined and interrogated with regard to our treatment. We were in this camp for about two weeks being well fed and prepared for our voyage to Canada. During our stay there Gracie Fields appeared at the camp along with other artistes at the open air theatre.

On 25th Sept 1945 we embarked on H.M.S. Implacable, a newly commissioned aircraft carrier, which had been hastily converted into a troopship for the sole purpose of repatriating Far East ex P.O.W.s. We virtually had the run of the whole ship, and taken on conducted tours of the 鈥榳orks鈥�. Across the Pacific via Pearl Harbour, where the effects of the Japanese air-raid which started it all were still very visible. On board we were entertained with films, concerts, and I took part in a quiz which was broadcast from the ships鈥� studio over the Tannoy to all parts of the ship. There was also a Royal Marine band on board, and we received news from home from the overseas broadcasts of the B.B.C. Thus we were slowly beginning to rehabilitate and by the time we arrived in Vancouver we were feeling in better health. We travelled across Canada for five days in special trains, stopping many times on the journey for receptions, which often included wonderful feasts set out on trestle tables beside the line and produced by local women鈥檚 organisations. Places like The Great Divide, Medicine Hat and Banff, Moose Jaw. And at Calgary we were invited to a special Calgary Stampede. But time did not allow this. After three weeks in an ex-Air Force camp near Halifax, Nova Scotia, we eventually embarked on the Isle de France and sailed across the Atlantic to Southampton and after a few days in a reception centre we were sent home on leave awaiting de-mobilisation. On 22nd Dec 1945 I reported to Fulford Barracks, York where I was officially discharged.

* * *

Extracts from letters sent home describing conditions in Singapore prior to invasion by the Japanese Army.

Letter one

As for myself, well, I am feeling as well as usual which is to say that apart from living in a permanent Turkish bath or alternatively being drenched to the skin with the rain (as this is our rainy season) I am still alive and kicking. I don鈥檛 know whether you can understand this last sentence, because on reading it, it sounds pretty awful to me, but anyway that鈥檚 that. I am still as busy as ever, even in my spare time, as I have taken upon myself the duties of Secretary to the Social Committeee of Malaya Command Siganls, and I am also a member of the Entertainments Committee. This entails a great amount of work, both on the stage and off it and I am pleased to say that my efforts in this direction have met with great success in spite of the fact that there are many handicaps to forming concert parties in the army, as probably father will know. Anyway I have given two shows, one for our own troops and one in the Presbyterian Club, for all troops. I have a concert party and a dance band which is being run by one of our musicians and a hormonica band.

Letter two

I must thank you once more for the parcel which you sent me, it was very good of you all, but please do not send any more cigarettes or chocolate as I know how hard they are to get in England, and we can get fags out here at about half the pre War price. Actually it makes me boiling mad to see what one can get here, because apart from a shortage of certain commodities and a consequent rise in price of things generally, the population here are not affected in any way. It would do some of these so called half baked pukka sahibs out here who are living on the fat of the land, a lot of good if they were rationed and made to do the same as you are doing in England, instead of having six course dinners every night at the most expensive hotels. But it would never do to deprive them of their nightly outings or stop them from stuffing their guts while the Mercantile Fleet is going through hell to bring them the best of everything. Rationing ought to be brought out here, because Malaya is even more dependent on supplies shipped from overseas than England is, but as it is now there is no rationing on food, clothes, petrol, paper or any of the vital commodities.
Having got rid of that bit of communistic propaganda from my system I will continue in the same sweet strain, unhampered by a mind full of antipathy towards the European civilian population here, which I have reluctantly to call my fellow countrymen.

* * *

A hand written card which has to be printed in block letter and prisoners were told what they must and must not say.

2590769 CPL. WILSON J.M.
Dear All
I am feeling well and am in good health and spirits. We are being treated quite reasonably under the circumstances and life is not too bad. I hope that all at home are in good health and not unduly worried. I think about you often and pray that we shall be speedily united again. Please don鈥檛 worry. Love to all. Maurice.

* * *

Letter sent from the copper mining village of Iruka, Osaka district, Japan; where conditions although not good were infinitely better than those of the 鈥淒eath Railway鈥� in Thailand. We still had had no definite information as to the progress of the war in Europe, although there were many rumours about.

October 1944
Dear All, just a few lines to let you know I am quite well and in good spirits. AS you will see by the address I am now in Japan where I am working.
Conditions are quite good, and Red Cross supplies arrive occasionally, although I have not received letters for some time, but some are expected soon.
I am very optimistic about the general situation and am looking forward to a happy reunion in the near future. Please remember me to all friends and relations of whom I think daily.
My best wishes and love to all
Maurice

* * *

This paraphrase of Psalm 46 was written in River Valley P.O.W. camp, Singapore about six months after the fall of that city on February 15th 1942 to Japanese forces.

The Lord our strength and haven is
In times of sore distress,
The thunders and the storms He stills
With words of quietness.

Enthroned upon his seat on high,
鈥榤idst all the heav鈥檔ly host
He watches o鈥檈r his wandering sheep
for those he careth most.

The kingdoms of the earth do move,
They melt and pass away;
The Kingdom of the Lord is love,
and will remain always.

Come! see what works the Lord has done,
His glory now behold;
the Lord of hosts is with us yet
as in the days of old.

He endeth all our wars and strife
by his supreme command,
And by His word He doth maintain
blest peace throughout the land.

The Lord of Hosts our refuge is,
He works most wonderously;
Be still and know that He is God
Exalt his name on high.

* * *

These verses were written in Iruku P.O.W. Camp, Japan, when after two years on the notorious 鈥淩ailway of Death鈥�, Thailand and over one year working in a copper mine above, we were at last told officially that the war was ended.

THOUGHTS ON FREEDOM

The struggle is now o鈥檈r they say; the long awaited day is here,
No more in bondage does the body and the soul decay,
No more our wounded spirits do the loathsome fetters bear.
The night has passed, and with the dawning of the day
there comes the word that we have longed to hear.

We shed no tears, we sing no psalm; (Captivity makes the mind immune,
and four long years of endless night has done emotion harm);
But heart to heart its inmost thoughts commune
as conversation turns to wife and home and farm,
and holidays, hotels, new clothes, and dance bands nightly tuned.

Four long dread years, are they all now behind?
Do they all dwell in the long past?
They are now imprisoned in the caverns of the mind.
The fates in hollowed palm our freedom held, the die they cast;
and leave us now our festering sores to bind.
Time heals all wounds, except a wounded memory which will all time outlast.

But set is now the Eastern Sun, no more degraded must we bow
our head to pagan conqueror 鈥� their sand of time is run.
The West upon its sons a new life will endow.
The yoke around our neck is loosed 鈥� new work must be begun,
once more we take in hand familiar pen and plough.

And now the sounds of tumult cease,
and noise of war no longer shatters nerve.
Let us who strove so hard in war, devote our lives to peace
ever striving more our fellow men to serve.
Fellowship among the nations let us still increase
and in our own green land the peace of God preserve.

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